


A Matter of Pride

by LiterallyThePresident



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Discussion of Afterlife, Pre-Relationship, Thorin tries, he sucks but he tries, headcanon for hobbit hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiterallyThePresident/pseuds/LiterallyThePresident
Summary: Hell is underground, or so the hobbit claims





	A Matter of Pride

“Hobbits have a Hell, you know.” Bilbo said quietly, breaking Thorin from his thoughts. He’d clearly been listening to Fili and Kili’s conversation about the afterlife, the halfling uncharacteristically quiet as they rode through a misty wood.

“Your people didn’t strike me as the eternal punishment type.” Thorin said carefully, not wanting to offend the creature but unsure as how to avoid doing so. Balin had advised him to try staying quiet and letting Bilbo speak, and Thorin had promised to try. This new friendship they had was a fragile thing, and he was doing his best not to sabotage it.

“We aren’t.” Bilbo snorted, “We believe the afterlife is granted in accordance with the life you lived. Our Hell is reserved for truly wicked hobbits. Murderers, adulterers, folks who take their tea at seven.” Thorin chortled at that, and the smile Bilbo granted him shined like amber in sunlight.

“And may I ask what your Hell is?” Despite himself, Thorin had grown curious. He could hardly imagine a wicked hobbit, but he knew logically that some must exist. What would a hobbit consider to be hellish? Fire? Ice? Perhaps starvation? Bilbo did that twitching scrunch of his face that so reminded Thorin of a rabbit.

“It’s dark, for starters.” Bilbo said, “Pitch black. And underground.”

“Underground?” Thorin turned his head to look at him, confused. Hobbit Hell was underground? Underground and Hell were two words that simply did not mingle.

“Hell is tunnels.” Bilbo continued, “Well, more like catacombs. Vast catacombs, cramped and decrepit, filled with bones. Low ceilings that force you to hunch over, cracked just enough that it seems it may fall any moment and crush you under the weight of the earth. Some say that terrible monsters and wandering souls twisted by ages of darkness dog your steps, and others say that your sins and regrets will manifest and torment you. Souls sent there are generally doomed to wander there until they find the way out. Many don’t.”

“I see.” Thorin said, and he did, to a point. The fear of being lost, of being chased, being trapped, that he could understand. But the halfling made the underground sound so frightening. Like it was something to be feared. Of course a child of the sunlit hills could not see the beauty of stone, the safety that came with being deep underground, surrounded by walls on all sides.

“I’ve heard it’s the despair that gets you.” Bilbo broke him from his thoughts yet again, “The tunnels are endless, the darkness oppressive. You fear you’ll never see the sun again, and legend says that the only way out is down.” He shivered, as of the very thought of these fabled tunnels put ice in his veins. Thorin frowned, feeling a need to comfort the creature.

“Within the halls of Erebor,” he started cautiously, “you will be safe.” Bilbo gave a strangled laugh.

“I will be a wreck.” he said, “An entire city under the stone. A hobbit, deep underground, surrounded by impenetrable rock, I don’t know what I was thinking. My dear dad would be convulsing in his grave.” he laughed, eyes crinkling, “I’m sure Erebor is lovely, Thorin, but I doubt I will be able to stay there.” Something in Thorin’s gut lurched at that, and his face must have shown his thoughts, because Bilbo hurriedly backtracked, misinterpreting his displeasure, “But don’t you worry, I won’t be letting this interfere with my task. I-If I may ask, what is dwarven hell?”

“Wicked dwarves are cast into a frozen river and encased in ice for eternity.” Thorin said bluntly, “Their faces are exposed to a never ending noon sun, so they burn as they freeze”. Bilbo gulped, face paling slightly.

“Oh dear.” he said, “That sounds... terribly inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient.” Thorin repeated slowly. Bilbo flushed.

“It was my attempt at being polite.” Bilbo said, “I wasn’t entirely sure my saying that it sounds absolutely terrifying and torturous would be acceptable.” Thorin couldn’t stop the fond curl of his lips. Hobbits and their fixation on manners.

“It is perfectly fine.” Thorin said, “If you offend me, you will know it.”

“Well that’s good to know.” Bilbo laughed, “I find myself much like a fish out of water among your kin, though it is getting better. It eases my heart that you listened so politely to my rambling about Hell. Don’t you worry, as I said, my cultural fears will not affect my resolve when the time comes.”

“Good.” Thorin felt a pang of something he refused to identify as guilt for bringing the little thing into peril, “I will not see the quest risked for silly fairy tales.”

“Silly fairy tales?” Bilbo huffed, his face closing off, and Thorin instantly regretted his words, “Well, I never. Perhaps I shall keep my stories to myself from now on.” Before Thorin could even think to apologize, Bilbo had spurred his pony ahead, lips downturned in indignation. Thorin allowed himself a small sigh. He’d done it again, been careless with his words and driven Bilbo away. He wondered why he hadn’t been granted Dis’ way with words. His sister could charm the hair off an elf.

“So.” Balin said casually, riding up beside him, “That was enlightening.”

“Eavesdropper.” Thorin grumbled without heat. Balin chuckled, completely without shame.

“It seems our dear burglar is literally walking into Hell with us.” the old dwarf said.

“So it seems.” Thorin said thoughtfully, staring at Bilbo’s back as he started up a cheerful conversation with Bofur, “Never mind that. When we reclaim the mountain, we will show him that the underground is nothing to be feared. It is certainly no Hell.”

“I fear that we’d have a better chance getting Ori to enjoy elven cuisine.” Balin sighed, earning a glare from Thorin. Balin grinned, insufferable and accurate as ever. It mattered not. Whatever happened, the halfling would come to love the underground, just as he did. Thorin would make him see it’s beauty, it’s safety and pride. Perhaps the halfling may even stay in Erebor once the battle was over, filling the halls with his laughter and the scent of wild flowers.

Not that Thorin cared either way, of course. It was simply a matter of pride.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched As Above, So Below followed immediately by The Hobbit and so this was born


End file.
